


One Cannot Ask Loneliness

by sophia_sol



Category: Queen of Atlantis - Sarah Rees Brennan
Genre: Chromatic Yuletide 2012, F/M, Gen, Yuletide 2012
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-20
Updated: 2012-12-20
Packaged: 2017-11-21 15:58:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/599575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophia_sol/pseuds/sophia_sol
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The night before Genia's first sacrifice it rains.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Cannot Ask Loneliness

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Katarik](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katarik/gifts).



> Many thanks to my wonderful cheerleader & betas!
> 
> See end notes for trigger warnings.

1.

The night before Genia's first sacrifice it rains. When she wakes in the morning, water is glistening on the leaves outside her window and the sun is shining. She smiles at herself in her mirror when Nurse finishes helping her dress, then turns and gives her a hug.

"Thank you," Genia murmurs in Nurse's ear, and she knows Nurse is smiling in response.

It's going to be a good day, Genia knows. It's a simple ceremony, but it makes a real difference for her country. Genia is proud to think that she is finally old enough to take this kind of responsibility. She will stand tall and beautiful in her shining gown as her father says the words she's heard every year as far back as she can remember. 

After lunch she lets her ladies-in-waiting hurry her down to the water's edge even though the ceremony won't be for a while. She sits, careful of her clothes, on a comfortable, familiar rock. She looks out over the waves and lets her thoughts drift. 

When the ceremony begins, after she greets her people and her parents hug her and her nurse hugs her and she straightens the fall of her sleeves, her eyes linger on her aunt Mache. As Genia recites the correct responses, memorized years ago in anticipation of this day, Mache smiles, but there's a worried tautness about her eyes that confuses Genia. Mache knows perfectly well there's nothing to be concerned about, Genia thinks. After all, she was the sacrifice for decades. And wasn't she always home in time for tea?

 

2.

Each year as the summer begins to fade Genia thinks of speaking with Mache. Each year Genia refrains. There's nothing to say, after all.

 

3.

When talks for Genia's betrothal begin, she nearly decides to take her sister aside for a private conversation -- an explanation of what to expect, so that it won't be such a terrible shock.

But Genia thinks back to her own first sacrifice, and she knows she wouldn't have been able to step into that boat if she knew what she was going towards. Better to do it as it has always been done; better to let the princess face her sacrifice on her own terms and in her own time.

Each year Genia told herself that next time she would say yes. She still has one last sacrifice before her marriage, but it is already too late. The alliance her marriage will forge is an important one. She has a duty to her people.

Someday a princess will say yes, Genia thinks, but without conviction. She is ashamed for the dead prince in his dead world with nothing alive but the knowledge of her people's continuing treachery. He deserves to be done right by. It disgusts her that nobody has done the honourable thing.

She takes cold comfort in the knowledge that she is only one of many princesses who have made the same choice.

 

4.

The journey by ship to her promised husband's land is long and unpleasant, untouched by the gentle magic she is used to each year at her sacrifice, when her small craft slips smoothly through the water no matter the weather. She can tell she makes the sailors uncomfortable so she spends most of her time in her cabin, only emerging once a day to take exercise and fresh air on deck.

The smell of the sea air is familiar, comforting; she has lived her whole life by the shore. It's mesmerizing to be able to see nothing but water no matter which direction she looks.

She daydreams of being swallowed by the sea.

The summer after her first sacrifice, she had practiced in preparation for the day the poison tides returned again: diving deep, deep, deep into the ocean, holding her breath till shards of pain sliced at her lungs and she couldn't keep herself from thrashing to the surface. She had to know what it was like so that she wouldn't disgrace herself and her country by panicking when she drowned with the dead city.

The next summer she didn't go swimming at all, even on the warmest days.

She loves the water, though, loved it even during that first frightened summer. Each time she returned to the surface, gasping, vision spotty, the water held her up and surrounded her with its cool impersonal caress.

Is that what it would have been like, had she said yes? Would she have found the water a comforting escape from the dead prince and from her country's shame? Or would she still have panicked at the last?

She stares out at the horizon of water and thinks of joining it.

 

5.

The weather is fine, so in the evening Genia and her husband share a private dinner by the shore.

"I'm so sorry, my dear," he says, dark eyes shining with sorrow in the fading light.

He takes her hand across the table. She stifles a sob.

"My sister and I were not close," she says, her voice wavering. News travels slowly from Genia's home -- from her old home. Summer is already drawing to a close, nearly a year after Mede's first (only) sacrifice. When she received the news, her first reaction was a sick relief. Then she just felt sick.

He gives her a worried look. "She was still your sister. And I know you loved her."

With her free hand Genia lifts her gently steaming tea and takes a sip. It's one of his kind gestures, providing for her the milder tea she grew up with. The kitchen staff don't know how to prepare it correctly, but it warms her, this reminder that he truly cares about her.

"Yes," she says eventually, looking out over the dark waves. "She -- she was very different from me. Mede was forever getting into trouble. But she had such capacity for kindness, for love. I think -- " she says, then stops.

"Yes?" he says.

"She would be astonished to hear me say it. But she was a better princess than I."

Genia brings her gaze back to her husband. He looks uncertain how to respond, and she smiles suddenly, fond. "You remind me of her, a little. Always thinking the best of people. Always wanting to do what's right."

"But that's what I admire about _you_ ," he says, and he's so earnestly sincere that she can no longer keep herself from crying.

"I try," she says through her tears, her throat tight. "I try."

"I know," he says.

The warmth of his hand around hers anchors her.

**Author's Note:**

> TW: Contains thoughts of intentional death that may read as being suicidal.
> 
> The title is from a poem by Jakuren. I envision Genia's husband's land as being a part of a never-sunk [Kumari Kandam](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kumari_Kandam), because why not, but unfortunately I wasn't able to work any specific details on the subject into the fic.


End file.
